Kitten
by Parad0xotaur
Summary: Isabela & Merrill went lingerie shopping. And it's all downhill from there, much to Hawke's delight and his mabari's confusion. Humor & Romance one-shot. Rated M for Mischief and sMut. M!/Merrill


A/N: My first fanfic! Rated M but still a pretty fluffy one-shot. M!/Merrill.

**Update**: Mabari "Bill" now has a larger role thanks to Infernal00's suggestion. And credit for a large part of Bill's personality goes to Crisium's "Dog" from What We Become, et al.

* * *

><p>Merrill followed Hawke, hand in hand, up the stairs toward his bedroom. At the landing, he turned to face her. The moonlight streaming in from the windows made Merrill's stray hairs more apparent; she looked wild and beautiful. "<em>Glad I didn't get those curtains put up<em>," he thought, stroking her chin with his thumb. "You're lovely," he said.

She leaned into his hand, looked up at him, and smiled sweetly. "I have a bit of new magic to show you, Hawke."

"Is that so?" the mage responded, wondering if he should be intrigued or concerned.

"Yes. Isabela taught me," she said brightly, "I'll show you if you'd like." Her eyes gleamed, expecting an immediate affirmative.

"What? Isabela?" He was decidedly concerned now. "Merrill, should we...just have tea and snuggle by the fire tonight?" Then he muttered mostly to himself, "_And visit Anders' clinic __**first**__ thing tomorrow morning?_"

"What?" Her expression dropped as she tilted her head out of his hand, "I mean...tea would be...nice. …Did I do something wrong? You're not sick, are you?" She paused, quizzically, "You know Isabela doesn't _really_ know any magic? She just...suggested...I say that."

He chuckled and brushed the hair out of her eyes, resting his rough hand on her pale shoulder. "Merrill, you don't need _any_ tips from Isabela, I assure you. And no, I'm not sick." Hawke paused to choose his words very carefully before continuing, "You and Isabela are...just friends...right?"

"Yes...What else would we be?"

Relieved, he touched his forehead to hers and squeezed her hand. "Never mind, my Dear. What is this magic you mentioned?"

Merrill lit up immediately but darkened just as quickly, "Are we still having tea?"

"Only if you'd like to," Hawke replied warmly.

"Oh. No, no thank you," she said with a blush.

Composing herself, she stepped back from him, twirled a finger over her head like a mock magic wand, and pretended to shiver as she flicked her wrist. She then slowly brushed past him on one side, then the other, and finally to the bedroom door.

"Merrill...are you...purring?"

In the main hall, Bill, Hawke's mabari, was twitching in his sleep. At the sound of Merrill though, he quickly lifted his head and surveyed the room with shifting eyes. Tentatively, he set his chin back on his folded paws and feigned rest.

"It'll take a moment for the transformation to complete," she said as she passed though the door. But a second later, she poked her head back out to tell him to wait a few minutes.

Hawke hung his head and thought, "_I __**really**__ hope she doesn't think she is __**actually**__ going to change into a cat with that little trick._" He waited as requested then followed in behind her, again wondering if he should be intrigued or concerned.

* * *

><p>When Hawke entered the room, Merrill was curled up in a black ball on the white rug in front of the fireplace. She looked up and nodded to the spot next to her. He coyly sat down with his legs crossed and waited. She then got on all fours facing him and stretched so that her breasts touched the floor and her bottom was in the air.<p>

Hawke noted her with interest but still waited to see what she was up to. Not quite getting the response she wanted, she slinked her way into his lap and nuzzled his neck, purring.

He saw what prompted all of this; Merrill's velvet cami had the suggestion of leopard markings burned into it. And her black, see-through knickers had a short, detachable tail.

"Yes, yes, Merrill, I get it..."

With that, she slid off him and pounced forward. The back of his head hit the floor with thud; and with _that_, Bill clamored up the stairs. The mabari seemed to mutter, woofing occasionally, as he paced outside Hawke's room. From the larder, Sandal echoed his furry friend and clapped his hands joyfully.

"We're fine, boy," he called. "I'm fine," to the horrified Merrill. Bill met Sandal at the base of the stairs and flopped down. "_But there's a __**rat-catcher**__ in there! I just __**know**__ it!_" the mabari silently pleaded to the young dwarf. Sandal sat on the bottom step and petted him.

"I'm so-"

"Merrill, you're doing fine. Please, _do_ continue."

Reluctantly, she shrank down to his belt and unfastened it. After opening his robe however, she got back into character. He held his (mildly aching) head up with hands behind it to watch her. From just above his belly button, she randomly licked and teased his ripped flesh until she straddled him, nibbling his neck and ear.

Hawke gingerly let his head rest on the floor and held on to her, releasing small whimpers of frustration. She wasn't untying his drawstrings so he reached down for them. "_Maker, thank you for knickers with tails_," he thought, feeling his pants damp with her pleasure.

She snapped up with a playful hiss and rolled off to pull him to the bed. Seeing the front of pants, her eyes widened. In response, he shucked them off and motioned for her to do the same.

Merrill stood slowly, turned from him, and detached the tail. She looked over her shoulder, flirtingly, and then bent over to shed her (damp) knickers.

Hawke quickly stood and smacked her rump. She jerked up and faced him in fake outrage. To that, he spun her around and lightly shoved her in the direction of the bed, following after and grinning.

She, very slowly and deliberately, crawled to the far side of the mattress. But he jumped on the bed, bouncing her up. Merrill gave him a look but it faded as she got an idea. Pulling the cami over her head, she shook her mane once free and stalked on all fours to the foot of the bed on Hawke's side. With a wiggle of her hindquarters, she pounced again onto her lover. He tickled her ribs and she squealed with surprised delight.

Settling down, she took his length into her mouth greedily and attempted to purr. Hawke bunched the covers with his hands and drew uneven gasps, when he remembered to breath at all.

Merrill smiled at her effect and straddled him, her nethers slick with want. Electricity from their skin arced between them.

He entered her with a jolt, rolling on top. Hawke pulled up and stood on his knees as she arched in a half back-bend and bid him deeper. His pace was perfectly maddening; she feared they might set the bed on fire. She gave into it though and their quickly following releases put all the crackling fires in the room out.

There, in the dark together, they struggled to breath, from pleasure (and, unfortunately, from the smoke).

* * *

><p>"<em>Maybe we could try doing this outside sometime. Our magic would zap any insects and we wouldn't have <em>_**this**__ problem, I'm sure_," Hawke thought as he lightly coughed. "_Hm, yes...Merrill in the moonlight..._"

Hawke cleared the smoke, reignited the fireplace and torches, and turned on his side to face his Merrill.

"You haven't even said anything about my new lingerie," Merrill pouted, gesturing to the discarded garments.

He rolled his eyes and smiled, asking, "Where did you get them?"

"The Lowtown tailor. Isabela spotted them while we were shopping, actually. She bought them for me after...I...told her about you. ...I mean, I told her that I liked you. ...Um...and I still like you!"

"You know, I wondered."

"You did?"

"No, Silly," he said, licking up her ear quickly to make her shiver. "I believe I even said that I _loved_ you, if you recall. ..._And_," drawing her close, "..I _still_ do." His kiss melted her further into his arms.

Merrill rested her head on his chest. "She's been calling me 'Kitten' ever since. It's been...a little joke between us."

He straightened, pausing for a second, "_So much_ makes sense now..."

"Really? ...Well, that's good, isn't it?"

He quirked a smile, "Yes. Very much."

They fell quiet as they snuggled and eventually dozed off to sleep.

"En-_chant_-ment," Sandal whispered as he peered through the door Hawke had left cracked.

"_They were just mating, Sandal. Now move and go to bed_," Bill motioned with his snout in a huff, "_**I**__ have a rat-catcher to hunt..._"


End file.
